


keen (k is for knife)

by poetrics



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Blood, Knife Play, M/M, Other, self harm in the context of kink, technically the precursor to knife play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:23:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetrics/pseuds/poetrics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before using a blade on another, you must first use it on yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keen (k is for knife)

**Author's Note:**

> for A Luke

The first thing Van always does, once he has shut himself away from the world for the evening, is take down his hair.

It is a disrobing of sorts, a ritual release from the tension of the day and the tight control he has over his mask. Tonight he still wants his hair out of his face, so he shakes it out and reties it at the nape of his neck. He then turns his attention to the parcel he's placed on his desk. 

Unsheathed, the blade of the knife he bought from a travelling merchant gleams in the dim light. It's a pretty thing, meant to be ornamental rather than functional, slightly curved and with an elegantly wrought hilt. The edge is still sharp. Now he just needs to know how much.

Van lays the knife down for a moment, stripping to his underclothes. He picks it back up and sits at the edge of his bed, considering, then presses the point to his forearm.

A delicate lance of pain blooms at the spot, and he increases the pressure slowly until a drop of blood wells beneath it. The action is repeated in several places- his side, his thigh- and each time he takes careful stock of what amount of pressure the blade requires to pierce skin.

Satisfied with these results, Van moves on to other experiments- dragging the tip over his skin, drawing the blade quickly or slowly, in straight lines or curved- always mirrored on various stretches of unmarked flesh. He varies his pressure, his technique, until his torso and legs are criss-crossed with welts and cuts and he feels confident in how he wields it. He holds the flat of the blade to his throat, turning it until he feels the edge against his heartbeat.

A stray thought strikes him, and he breathes a soundless laugh before carving four letters backward into his chest.

The marks do nothing to arouse him, calmly self-inflicted as they are, but he can still feel his pulse in every one of them, feel the burn as he crosses to his mirror to examine his work. The word he has written in his skin stands out starkly among the haphazard lines, and a trickle of blood spills over from the final letter where he pressed down enough to cut rather than simply mark. 

_LIAR._

Van allows himself a self-indulgent smile and casts a healing arte, erasing everything.

The replica will enjoy this.

**Author's Note:**

> well hello there Tales fandom


End file.
